


The Haunting of Hill Manor

by Evangel10n



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Haunted Houses, One Shot, Possession, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evangel10n/pseuds/Evangel10n
Summary: A couple moves into a house and slowly it becomes apparent that the house is not just a house, but has sinister intentions for them.
Kudos: 2





	The Haunting of Hill Manor

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original short story. This not beta'd, so I hope you will excuse any errors. Enjoy

Hill Manor stands solely on the bones of the family that lived in it over the years, eating them alive and spitting them out. Some say it is cursed, some say it is haunted. What is my opinion you ask? I say we are all a little haunted on the inside, hung up on the ghost of our pasts. This house... this house makes those ghosts come to life, gives them a body. I always felt like I was being watched, just something about the air made it feel like it was breathing, meticulously taking note of every move you made. Hill Manor became our home, do you remember when we found this house? How the light shone through the window in just the right way? Or how we were so excited, newlyweds, and so in love? We envisioned our life here... but quickly I found out that would never happen. 

It's funny, looking back, how both of us were so blind to the evil that lived within the walls of Hill Manor. An evil that had embedded itself so deeply that it was no longer a house, but the embodiment of evil. At first, it was subtle, catching glances of something out of the corner of my eye or doors to unused parts of the house laying open. But, it was apart of the house's game, and neither of us wanted to admit it for the fear of sounding crazy. How young and stupid we were. I remember one day in the library, you know the one, where I was going through the books left behind by all the previous owners. I had found countless first editions of books, all priceless, and there they were sitting on their shelves, rotting away. I remember feeling that I was not alone in that room. Something dark, cold, and entirely inhuman was watching me, but I found no one but myself in there. That is the thing about Hill Manor, the evil within was always lurking, waiting for you to fall into its clutches. When I tried to leave, the heavy oak door stood open and as I came to it slammed shut by itself, locking me in. How could we have been so blind back then? We should have packed up and left. We should have blown this house up so no one else could be claimed by it. 

"I am sure it is just the stress of the move," you said that night of the library incident. But the house did not want you, it wanted me. It wanted me to stay and walk its dusty halls forever. But still, we did not move. And still, the house played its game, becoming more brazen and fixated on claiming it's next trophy. 

But I did not know any of that then, no. I wanted to believe you were right, that it was stress and that it was all in my head. I wanted so much for your words to be true. 

Then, as if carefully planned, the house took its time with me, slowly grooming me. At night I would be awoken to the sound of scratching in the walls, the laughter of children in the hall, or to the sight of the woman dressed in a tattered nightgown that stood at the door watching from behind the curtain of hair. When I started taking sleeping pills, things only got worse. I would dream the strangest dreams. I would dream I was stuck in the walls and would try to claw my way out. I would dream that I was a child, running around the manor at night, laughing as if I had gotten away with something. But then there was the most awful dream of them all. I would walk the halls at night, checking the doors, turning knobs frantically to see if they were unlocked. But my goal always felt centered in one room of the house, the one room that always was unlocked for me. I had no idea what drew me there, but I needed to go to that room. I would watch my hand take the knob, turning it slowly. The door opened to a bedroom, our bedroom. And I would sit and watch us sleeping soundly through an obstructed view as if my hair was permanently fixed like a veil. And through that veil, I would peer at us asleep, creeping closer to where I lay. Only to be awoken by the violent feeling of being choked. 

Why did we not leave? Why did we stay? Then maybe all of this could have been avoided. 

It was only a few nights later that I had another dream. But that dream felt different, more lucid than the others. It was late. The house was dark and quiet as I walked deeper into it, no real thought where I was going as I walked into the library. The library was illuminated by moonbeams through the towering windows, casting the room in shadows and lit it up in faint light. I remembered how marbled statues stood, stoic, and beautiful against the light. I was not afraid. I was not alone. The house was with me and it guided me, showing me where I was needed. When I left the room, I looked down at my hands, there was a rope in them and suddenly I was on the stairs. I did not question it. I did not question it as the rope cinched at my neck. I did not question it when my feet and arms took me to the banister. I did not question anything as I climbed over it. I remember feeling peaceful, calm even as I released my hands from the railing. 

But nothing happened. I landed on the floor. I turned, looking around. And then did I realize that it was not a dream at all. And only then did I realize that Hill Manor had claimed me. 

I stood there all night watching my body dangle lifelessly from the top of the stairs, just waiting for you to find me. I felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't come. I felt like screaming, but no sound escaped my mouth. 

Then, as if the nightmare had really begun, you came down the stairs, still riddled with sleep and your hair disheveled. I wish I could have held on to that moment, save you from seeing me. I remember the look of terror on your face, etched into me forever. You were screaming and shouting, begging me to wake up as you tried your best to hoist my body, but of course, I wouldn't, I was gone long before you woke up. I walked up the steps, placing myself next to you, and cried with you. Only then did the tears come. We sat like that for what seemed like hours. I cried for you. I never wanted to put you through that. 

Eventually, the police came with a body bag. I stood next to you as we watched my body leave. I stood by you while they questioned you. I stood with you as you got ready for my funeral. I stood with you as you cried yourself to sleep. I stood with you on the rainy days that you did not eat. I stood with you as you packed our belongings, emptying the house of our existence. And I stood with you when the moving truck came. I stood with you as you walked out the door, never to return to Hill Manor again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much, for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter if you want to stay updated with what I am writing! 
> 
> Twitter: @ProcessedHuman


End file.
